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Chapter 165: Strange Hobbies
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Chapter 167: Crumb Crusader
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... his fork and felt the steam rise up and slap him in the face like it had an attitude. Three of them, stacked up like squat little bread pancakes — wait, that didn’t make sense. Whatever. They were round, soft, and smelled like breakfast had punched him in the nose.
He sniffed again. Butter. Syrup. And something else. Warmth? Childhood? No, probably just burnt edge. Yeah. One of them was a little too brown on the side. He liked that.
He stabbed a piece off the top pancake, the fo ...
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